


Alexander and John Entertain A Guest

by vintage_salem



Series: The Secret (Sexy) Lives of Alexander and John [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Eliza is a little minx, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Polyamory, Secret Relationship, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintage_salem/pseuds/vintage_salem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliza gets to watch Alexander and John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like our two favorite revolutionaries would've been into some kink back in the day. This is just one in a series that chronicle their (dirty, dirty) adventures. Historical inaccuracies abound!
> 
> Oh, LMM, WHY.

Eliza Hamilton had always known about her husband’s…affinity, for lack of a better word, for both women and men. 

Well, more specifically, her husband’s affinity for women and one man named _John Laurens_. 

When Eliza first met Alexander Hamilton during a ball set in the depth of winter, he had instantly charmed her with that flirtatious mouth, that clever brain. She had initially spotted him flitting around the room, winking at ladies and jovially clapping men on the back. Finally upon introducing himself to her, he fell into an elegant bow and kissed her hand, and she blushed and giggled. And she also saw a slim man with dark curls (she would later learn his name was John Laurens) possessively watch Alexander circle the room. Alexander laughed and flirted outrageously with her as they danced, but when the music paused, he took his leave with an apologetic murmur and went to stand beside the jealous young fellow by the wall. 

They had whispered heatedly, the second young man’s expression growing ever crosser. But then Alexander had clasped the second man’s hand for a second (it was so brief, so quick, but Eliza had spied it) and had looked at him with such a pleading expression, it almost hurt to see. The second man sighed, shaking his head as he looked up at the ceiling. Alexander had laughed and stepped closer to him, now murmuring into his ear, and the second man smiled at their private joke. And then when the music started again, Alexander was suddenly again by her side, hand already outstretched, waiting for her to spring forwards into him. 

She married Alexander shortly afterwards, and he spun her around again as music played and told her that she was the only woman in the world for him (he was always such a lawyer with his so-very precise language). And even though John left the dancing at one point in an apparent huff and Alexander gently kissed her before walking quickly to follow his friend, she went to bed that night with her husband, feeling like the happiest woman in the world. Alexander was not one to lie – in fact, his upfront honestly was almost unsettling at times. She knew that she was the most important woman in his life. But just maybe…she was one of two most important _people_ in his life.

For even though she could not match Alexander’s remarkable intellectual capacities (for what mere mortal could?), she had always prided herself on her innate talents of deducing secrets.

She knew that Angelica harbored some secret jealousy towards her for being the one with whom Alexander had danced during the ball (although she also knew that neither sister would ever dare approach that topic). She knew that George Washington considered Alexander to be less of an aide and more of a surrogate child – his usually polite, distant tone warmed minutely when he addressed her husband and that slight change in intonation spoke volumes to her. She knew upon seeing John’s expression on her wedding day (an odd expression of both devastation and adoration) that she was not the only one who wanted to make Alexander the sun around which their lives could circle. And she knew that even though Alexander would slide under their bedsheets every night, turn towards her with a soft smile, kiss her mouth, gently enter her – she knew that even after their wedding, when John would pay a visit and they retreated into Alexander’s office for political briefings, John would always leave the office with a slight spring in his step and Alexander would exit afterwards with a slightly red and bruised mouth.

She had asked him about John while they lay in their bed with his arm curled around her, her head resting on his bare chest. Were they lovers during the war? Were they lovers now? (She could barely admit to herself that this question did not cause jealousy or anger to flare up within her. She was simply _curious_. Perhaps that was the first indication that she had some rather illicit preferences.) 

Alexander did not answer immediately (that inability to tell an outright lie coming through once again), and his uncharacteristic silence gave her the answer she already had deduced. She lifted up her hand and twisted around so that she now lay on her stomach, facing her husband. Alexander continued to stare determinedly upwards at the ceiling, apparently unwilling to give her any additional ammunition.

But Eliza _knew_ about John. What she wanted (she realized this as she was formulating her next question) was greater detail. What did it truly mean that they were lovers? And what did it mean that she wanted to know so very badly? (That last thought was quickly disregarded. Alexander had always been truthful with her, and she could afford him the same courtesy.)

She awkwardly asked Alexander about the mechanisms behind the coupling of two men and as Alexander looked at her in surprise and began to explain in explicit detail (his verbosity clearly extended to a great many topics), she was startled by the flushed heat that slowly grew on her cheeks and a now-familiar ache developing between her legs. 

Alexander must have noticed this blush because he paused, and with a sudden wicked gleam in his eyes, murmured, “My dear wife, I have always learned best through…visual stimulation. Would you agree that we share this capacity?”

Blushing, Eliza initially looked away – how could she, such a well-brought up woman, harbor such scandalous desires? But then only the ticking of the grandfather clock made noise, and the sudden silence felt overbearingly thick. She glanced back to see Alexander intently staring at her. 

“We do,” she breathed, and Alexander smiled.

 

Eliza finally indulged this secret desire after dinner a fortnight later. John had joined them, which was certainly not unusual, and they feasted on venison and red wine. Conversation remained light and jovial – John’s relaxed attitude and easy laughs indicated that Alexander had not yet shared with him their pillow-talk conversation. But once the servants had removed the dishes, and the three of them retired to the sitting room, Alexander took matters into his own hands. 

She and John shared the small couch, facing Alexander in his usual armchair. “My dear Laurens,” smiled Alexander, and John looked at him with such an innocent expression that Eliza would have laughed out loud if her heart were not beating so fast. 

Alexander continued, “It would seem that my sweet Eliza has a deep dark secret. A secret that just happens to be aligned with some of our more _clandestine_ behavior.”

With that, he moved forward like a panther from his chair across the room and straddled John on the couch. John’s eyebrows had flown up to his hairline with that pronouncement, but he only clasped Alexander’s knees and pulled their two bodies closer together. Alexander’s slim legs pressed against John’s hips as Alexander gently lifted John’s head and pressed an open kiss against his mouth.

John let out a _luscious_ moan at that (Eliza felt her mouth drop slightly), his hands flying up to tangle themselves in Alexander’s dark hair and gently pull those soft strands (Alexander whined at that, and Eliza made note of that particular fact).

Alexander’s hips rocked slowly into John’s lap as both men fought for dominating the other with their mouths. Alexander bit John’s lower lip, and John retaliated by grasping Alexander’s hair tighter and harshly pulling it back. The sharp pant emitted by Alexander was only outmatched by Eliza’s own gasp, and John gave her a quick smirk before moving his attention to Alexander’s exposed throat.

Alexander had always been a gentle lover with her. He kissed her lips softly, took great care in unlacing her dresses, delicately stroked her skin until she trembled with arousal, and when he would finally enter her, he would slowly sink in inch by inch. She had never seen him react such animalistic passion outside of a political debate. And…whatever this thing was that he had with John, it generated more heat and fervor than what any conversation on domestic policy could create. And _oh_ did she want to see more.

The couch below them creaked as the two men rocked together. Alexander rolled his hips again into John as John moved back up to nip at his lower jaw. Their lips came crashing back together, Alexander’s arm snaking its way behind John’s head to hold him steady, and their hips resumed their grinding. She could not see John in as great detail, but Alexander’s manhood was sharply defined through his trousers – she knew from experience how he could strain against the fabric, desperate for contact. She could feel slickness between her thighs, and she could not help but wonder if they could smell her desire now as they tightly embraced. (She had to physically fan herself with her hand at that thought, her other hand tightly clutching her full skirts.)

“John,” gasped Alexander as John grabbed his chin and bit down again on his sharp jawline. John groaned in response and sucked tightly at the skin behind Alexander’s ear. Alexander’s eyes rolled upwards with that new sensation, the skin on his arms forming tiny bumps as John _licked_ his neck, and his lower body thrust wildly into John.

Suddenly his eyes flew open and he turned his head quickly towards Eliza. “Can I…?” Fearful of speaking out loud and completely exposing her own ragged arousal, Eliza only nodded. Alexander then cried out, body suddenly seizing up and eyes squeezing shut, and Eliza _knew_ what that expression meant. She had seen it for the first time on their wedding night and many, many times afterwards. And judging by John’s eyes clouding over with excitement, he also recognized that telltale look.

But then John…oh, John’s expression was just as glorious. He was not as loud as Alexander, but he suddenly grasped Alexander’s hips with both hips to still Alexander’s trembling body and then his own pelvis thrust upwards twice. His head fell back, his mouth open in a silent scream, and then he fell limp against the couch.

Eliza then realized just how loud she was breathing as the two men sagged against each other – Alexander certainly caught that because he gave her a teasing smile, his tongue between his teeth, and continued to sit straddling John. Finally John seemed to shake off the daze that had settled over him because he suddenly stood up, lifting Alexander from around his waist and placed him on the couch beside Eliza (and that image of John easily carrying Alexander like his very own plaything was one that be seared forever in the most intimate recesses of Eliza’s mind).

He bowed towards the couple on the couch and said, “My friends, I admit that I am in need of a bath and an unsullied set of nightclothes. If I may retire?” Beads of sweat had formed at his temples, loose strands of dark hair gently curling upwards.

Eliza smiled and sent him upstairs to the guest quarters, and now she and Alexander sat alone in the dim sitting room. He moved slightly towards her, and she was sure he could sense her excitement. 

“If you are not too fatigued, Alexander, perhaps you may take me to bed?” she whispered, painfully aware of her desire to be filled by her husband. Alexander laughed out loud at that (“My little Eliza, such a naughty vixen!”) and stood, legs still trembling and hand outstretched, ready to lead her towards their bedroom.

 

The next morning at breakfast, Alexander was uncharacteristically demure with her, as if he were shy about the previous night’s proceedings. John had left to return home just before the meal was served. He had given Eliza an affectionate wink and kissed her hand, and Alexander a minute kiss on the lips. Then the married couple sat down to eat, just like every other morning.

“Did you enjoy yesterday evening, husband?” she innocently inquired over the toasted bread and preserves on the table, and Alexander looked up. His hand lifted to his neck, unconsciously outlining the bruises that John had so enthusiastically left for him the evening prior.

“Our dear Mr. Laurens seems to be in fine health,” she added slyly.

Alexander coughed – perhaps suppressing a giggle – and said, “I would agree with you. You are a fine observer, sweet Eliza.”

“But I worry that I did not adequately witness what you had so…elegantly described to me that night.”

That statement produced a smirk as Alexander processed her meaning.

“I daresay that I will need an additional lesson, would you not agree, dear husband?”

Alexander positively _purred_ in agreement.

 

Four days later, Alexander and Eliza extended a dinner invitation to John who quickly and graciously accepted. As they ate, Eliza could not help but compare the light-hearted atmosphere of the first dinner to the quiet, charged tension that permeated the room this evening. Alexander gave a half-hearted diatribe against some local politician (Eliza was embarrassed to admit that she did not pay attention – she was too focused on the memory of Alexander moaning as John bit his neck), John told a joking story about his privileged-but-backwards upbringing in South Carolina (there she was remembering how John shuddering as he thrust his hips into Alexander’s pliant body), and then suddenly they were finishing dessert. Eliza had dismissed the servants, and now she, John, and Alexander sat alone in the dining room.

Silence fell. Eliza felt a blush crawl up her throat and face, but she dared not disturb the room’s suddenly heavy atmosphere. She looked boldly at the two figures in front of her. Both men were staring at her, waiting on her giving a cue on which they have never discussed. But Eliza’s gaze did not falter, and her eyes locked with John’s.

“Mr. Laurens,” she declared, surprising even herself with the confident tone that now spilled out, “I confess that I have neglected to watch the time. Surely it is too late now for you to return home.”

John’s eyes darkened, and he gave her a predatory smirk. “I admit freely that to try to venture home tonight would be a fool’s errand. I have helped myself to too much of your wine tonight, and I would end up lost and on the streets should I try to find my way back.”

“Well, then we would be poor hosts to send you off on your own,” she declared. “You are of course welcome to find some rest here.” 

John’s grin grew even wider with Eliza’s pronouncement.

Alexander had kept quiet during this exchange, looking from Eliza to John and back with a look of breathless anticipation. John did not immediately respond; rather he continued to gaze at Eliza who felt her skin prick into gooseflesh with the intensity of his dark stare. No wonder that Alexander responded with such brazen passion towards the man. Finally-

“Mrs. Hamilton, are you not tired with the duties of the day? Give me the heavy duty of returning your husband to your room. Give us but a moment – I daresay he will be more amiable once he has fully…readied himself for this evening’s rest.”

Eliza did not miss how Alexander visibly swallowed at that declaration, a flush coloring his cheeks and, more provocatively, his neck, fading bruises still visible underneath his collar. She did not trust herself to formulate words (quite frankly, the only words she could think of were, “Take him here!”) so she allowed herself the smallest of nods. 

John rose and clasped Alexander’s slim wrist, gently pulling him out of his seat towards the door, and Eliza was struck by just how obediently Alexander followed him. The harsh animal-like qualities he had taken on when straddling John were now replaced by a quiet submission. John would take care of him, she realized, and he recognized that. John would always take care of him.

“Remember, Mrs. Hamilton,” said John teasingly as the two men paused by the doorframe, “One moment.” 

Then they disappeared from the room. Eliza was left alone, that familiar dampness developing between her legs and (was she visibly perspiring?!) sweat trickling down the nape of her neck. She quietly whispered the seconds: “One…two…three…”

When she got to “sixty,” she rose.

The door to her and Alexander’s bedroom was closed, but as she slowly approached, she could hear muffled noises through the wall. She pressed her ear against the wooden door and her breath hitched as she heard a whine – Alexander’s voice, to be sure, and what a _whimper_ \- and then a soft shushing. That would be John then, always keeping Alexander safe.

She was ready. She was Mrs. Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, and she was about to watch her husband lay with another man. 

Eliza opened the door.


	2. Chapter 2

The scene when she walked into the bedroom caused her to sharply gasp (if she were not so desirous of whatever was about to transpire, she would have died of embarrassment by how _loudly_ she made her entrance). But what was happening in front of her...

Alexander was lying naked on his back, hands holding his legs up and apart, head straining upwards to watch what was happening between his thighs. John, fully clothed, was kneeling there on the bed, one hand loosely pulling at Alexander’s member while the other rocked back and forth beneath Alexander’s hips. Eliza could only guess where his hand was, based on the small movements of his arm and Alexander’s corresponding whines. Alexander’s lips, so full and pink from kissing, had formed a perfect “O,” and his dark eyebrows were furrowed.

“Oh Eliza, he is perfect, is he not?” 

John’s voice had become ragged, deep, and Eliza’s spine tingled. Both men were well known in their circle (and beyond) as heroes of the Revolution. John’s Southern upbringing and strong political rhetoric immediately cast him as the dashingly charming young rogue, while Alexander played up his image of the spirited patriot effusive with both pen and mouth. When the two men approached, people either sighed in disdain or rushed to congratulate their latest ideas – sometimes perhaps both. But no one else had the distinct pleasure of seeing both remarkable men in this state – flushed, panting, undone, as they manipulated each other.

“Want to see him scream?” breathed John, an evil glint in his eyes.

Eliza could only nod with breathless anticipation, and John’s right hand suddenly tightened on Alexander while his left hand shifted its angle. Alexander let out a surprised, “ _OH_ ,” his head tilting back and eyes rolling to the back of his head. John made one more motion, and Alexander fell fully backwards on the bed, twisting in pleasure. His legs spread even further apart, his heels digging into the mattress.

“You might be surprised,” whispered John, sweat beading at his temples as he continued to finger a panting Alexander. “Your husband can actually be very agreeable sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” asked Eliza, her voice dry and catching in her throat. 

“Well,” continued John, his brow furrowed in concentration, “He can take you…as a man, yes? But he is so accommodating…he can sometimes _be_ taken himself.”

“You mean…you could take him…as a woman?” Eliza suddenly remembered Alexander’s original explanation of how two men could engage in relations as they lay in bed together. Alexander, always loquacious, had explained in explicit detail about how a man could be fully penetrated – and whatever he was unable to put into words, his rather obscene hand gestures filled in. At the time, she had still not fully grasped what exactly he meant (surely one would not want to put part of their body… _there_?). But watching John expertly twist his fingers in Alexander – in _that_ place, that secret area even she had never seen – gave her a sudden understanding of what exactly Alexander had described. 

John looked at her and nodded – she was struck by the dark intensity in his ordinarily friendly eyes. “Yes...let me claim him.” 

Alexander’s eyes fluttered close at that, and Eliza felt a dark heat develop between her legs (that only too familiar heat that betrayed her longing during their initial encounter) as he softly whined. 

John was continuing to stare at her, an almost questioning look on his face. Alexander writhed beneath him, an endless whisper of _”John, oh…yes, John!”_ spouting from that delicious mouth, but John’s attention did not waver from the young woman facing him.  
Then Eliza understood what he was looking for – he wanted her permission. He wanted her permission before he…

“Husband,” Her voice caught in her throat, and she coughed. John softly chuckled.

“Husband,” Eliza tried again, hoping that the hoarseness in her voice was not too apparent. “Will you be claimed?”

Alexander’s answering hiss of “Yes…” was too tantalizing to ignore. She nodded back at John who closed his eyes in a brief expression of thankfulness. He then placed an open-mouth kiss on Alexander’s gasping mouth. Their lips slid wetly against each other as Alexander kissed back with ferocity despite his compromising position. 

As the two men continued to rock on the bed, Eliza sank down on a chair facing them. Her legs seemed to spread slightly apart on their own accord, her hands gripping her full skirts.

John then removed his hands from Alexander, who groaned in protest at the loss, and began to loosen his neck collar. He slowly undid his shirt, moving with precision from button to button, and Eliza’s sudden gooseflesh behind her neck matched Alexander’s own prickled skin. 

John’s gaze did not move from the naked man before him, and when he finally removed the offending piece of cloth from his torso, he threw it to the ground and quickly licked his lips. An unconscious gesture to be sure, but given the circumstances, it looked like John were preparing to feast upon Alexander. 

Alexander meanwhile seemed to be unable to keep those slim hips still (he was never one to slow down). They pushed upwards in small aborted thrusts towards John as John moved to unbuttoning his tight breeches. He slowly untwisted each button at his hips, and Alexander’s cock jutted straight upwards, slender and ruddy red with a thick bead of liquid emerging at its head and threatening to dribble onto his stomach. 

Eliza ordinarily would have welcomed the opportunity to straddle her husband and plunge herself down on his leaking manhood. Now she slowly lifted her skirts, slightly embarrassed by her own eagerness, pulling them to bunch around her waist and shifting her weight lower on her chair.

She lifted a trembling hand and gently reached beneath her skirts and full petticoat, tracing her fingers up her thigh. Her hand moving ever closer to the area where her thighs met, she moved aside her underclothes and softly gasped as her fingers grazed the damp curls between her legs. 

John pulled off his breeches and gentlemen’s stockings (his shoes apparently had long before been kicked off), his eyes never straying from the panting Alexander, and Eliza instantly averted her own. Years of etiquette lessons had taught her to avoid staring at men - let alone a nude man who was certainly not her husband. But hearing Alexander’s groan and John’s responding chuckle caused her ears to prick. What _precisely_ had happened? Had she missed the initial claiming? Was Alexander now moaning in response to John thrusting into him? (Her fingers had found her most sensitive area right above her slit and began to rub with that thought. Her curls were slick with her arousal, her juices soaking the secretive folds of her cunt.)

She glanced back towards the bed to find John now completely nude, looming over Alexander and leisurely stroking his own cock. She had never before seen another man’s penis and could not but to compare the two now in front of her. Compared to Alexander’s slender red cock, John was thicker and darker, but shorter. Watching Alexander join John by wrapping his own hand around John’s penis, she was struck how it was so thick that even Alexander could barely enclose his hand around it.

John reached in the pocket of his breeches, now carelessly tossed beside Alexander, and retrieved a small vial. The exact use of the oil was not discussed as John uncorked the bottle and carefully poured some type of yellow oil into his hand, but based on Eliza’s prior lesson, she knew what John was planning. Alexander sat up quickly to retrieve the bottle and replace the stopper – John’s hands were full with the slick substance. He then carefully slicked the oil onto his manhood, tugging slightly at the head as his hand lazily moved up and down. 

Alexander lay back on the bed, his chest rapidly rising and falling. John loomed over him, moving his slick hand back down between Alexander’s legs and _oh!_ Alexander’s eyes suddenly screwed closed. 

As John began to move his hand within Alexander (who now squirmed so _deliciously_ on the bed), Eliza’s fingers increased their tempo on her clitoris. She was aware of how she looked: skirts hiked up to her waist, legs spread, hand trailing up and down her wet slit, and thrusting hips mimicking Alexander’s own shifting pelvis.

“Now, Mrs. Hamilton – watch as we breech his defenses,” John hoarsely commanded and as she watched through heavily lidded eyes, John removed his hand from within Alexander, grabbed the base of his cock to position it right at Alexander’s opening, and began to slowly push within him. One hand remained at the base of his penis as he sheathed himself in Alexander’s shuddering bosy – the other hand softly stroked Alexander’s hip.

Once John was fully inside Alexander, Alexander made a noise that sounded simultaneously pained and satisfied. Eliza continued to massage her slippery clitoris as John soothed Alexander, wiping away the perspiration forming at his temple. 

“My dear,” he whispered. “Relax…I have you…”

He remained perfectly still until Alexander gave him a quick nod, and then he began to move his hips. And _there_ , that was when Alexander suddenly let out a howl. His eyes flew open, his hands coming to rest on John’s shoulders as John drive into him.

“God Eliza,” groaned John, and Eliza felt sweat drip down her neck as her fingers increased speed. “You have no _idea_ what he feels like, how hot and tight his body is.”

Alexander (always so nimble) had managed to wrap his leg around John's hip, locking in by John’s back – John now took advantage of this compromising position to grip it even higher up his hip. He could now thrust even harder into Alexander, his muscular behind clenching and relaxing with each shift.

Alexander threw his head back even further with a loud cry, and John _licked_ his neck from collarbone to jawline. As John thickly traced his tongue up Alexander’s throat, Alexander gripped the long strands of John's hair tightly – just as John had grasped his hair that earlier night – and John huffed before sucking hard on Alexander’s flushed neck. 

Eliza bit her bottom lip as she watched that animalistic display on the bed. Wetness dribbled out of her womanhood as her fingers delicately circled her most sensitive area, smearing her dark curls and inner thighs with her arousal.

She slipped a finger deep into her cunt, her thumb softly rubbing over her clitoris. Her breath became sharper as she began to rock her hips on her finger, her face screwing up in both concentration and pleasure.

“Look at your wife,” she heard John command and a deep groan followed in response. She locked eyes with Alexander whose dark gaze had grown black with arousal. His cheeks had grown red as he was moved up and down the bed by John’s body, and she knew that she wore a similar expression. Her thumb on her clitoris increased speed, and husband and wife heatedly stared at each other as they watched the other get penetrated. Alexander’s hand remained tangled in John’s thick curls, his other hand moving upwards to brace himself against the thudding headboard.

Then John gripped Alexander’s hips tighter (he would certainly leave dark bruises on Alexander’s slim waist) and increased his own thrusts. Alexander’s voice rose in pitch, a repeated verse of “Oh! Oh, John, right _there!_ ” And the headboard banged harder against the wall and Eliza adder a second finger, now fully penetrating her slippery tight womanhood.

Suddenly Alexander’s eyes screwed up tight (there, that wonderful expression again!) and a thick stream of ejaculate spurted out of his penis, covering his stomach with heavy streaks of white.  
As Alexander fell limp, his bruised throat exposing his rapid pulse and his leg slipping off John’s hip onto the bed, John slowed his thrusts and placed his hand in the sticky liquid, smearing it into his skin. Eliza was not sure if the subsequent moan came from her or Alexander as John possessively marked Alexander’s flat belly.

“You see,” John panted, as Alexander’s sticky chest rapidly rose and fell, “He can finish without you even touching his manhood. Did you know that about him?”

Eliza only moaned in response and clenched down herself, tightening around her finger. 

“Tell us, Eliza,” grunted John, barely able to get out the words as he began to move his hips again into a compliant Alexander, “How do you wish us to complete our task?”

Eliza could only shake her head quickly, overwhelmed with sensation. As her palm massaged that sensitive button above, her fingers curled upward deeper inside herself. She felt the slippery friction as she moved her hand, hips moving along minutely.

“Well…” panted John, “I could turn him around…and take him… _unnngh_ like an animal? On his hands and knees? Or I could take…that pretty little mouth of his and - _ohhh, Alex!_ \- make him choke?” 

Eliza audibly groaned with that final suggestion (a third finger had now joined the first two, thrusting into her wet cunt and causing white spots to flash across her vision whenever she hit a certain spot deep within her) and John grinned wickedly. He stopped his thrusting into Alexander’s pliant body and tilted his hips back, removing himself from inside Alexander with a grunt. Alexander grimaced at the initial loss, but was quickly pulled up by his shoulders to sit awkwardly on his hands and knees, now facing John’s erect thickness. John sat upwards on his knees, panting with exertion and glistening with perspiration. 

Alexander, grinning ferally, looked up at John who now loomed over him – and then John pounced. He grasped a handful of Alexander’s hair – now roughly unkempt, far from its usual neat plait – and pulled his head roughly to his manhood. Alexander’s mouth had fallen open with surprise with the sharp twist of his hair, and John took advantage of his shock to plunge inside those open pink lips. Alexander’s heart-shaped mouth pulled tightly around John’s member as John bucked his hips into the dripping mouth.

John clasped Alexander’s ears, holding him still as he harshly thrust into Alexander’s mouth. A drip of saliva came from Alexander’s lips and slowly dripped onto the bed beneath them. John quickly wiped the drool onto Alexander’s chin before returning to holding his ears, and Alexander groaned in response.

Her orgasm came all at once, suddenly exploding from within deep inside her. She let out a keening cry, feeling both sweat trickle down her back and the protracted orgasm reverberating throughout her body. Her hand fell beside her, her skirts still explicitly hiked up around her waist, and she gasped as the final waves of her arousal coursed through her body.

When she was able to open her eyes, she immediately made eye contact with Alexander whose mouth was still getting abused by John. Tears had formed in the corners of Alexander’s eyes as John’s thick cock hit the back of his throat (at least, his soft gags made it sound like that), and he stared desirously at the panting woman on the chair. And despite the teary eyes, he was enthusiastically humming around John’s penis, his lips spread tight around the other man.

Then John’s movements stilted and gripping Alexander’s head tightly to his manhood (that _strangling_ noise he made…how could she get him to make that again?) he let out a final “Alex!” And Alexander choked as his throat rapidly swallowed whatever John was pouring in there.

He remained perfectly still, obediently waiting with John’s cock deep in his throat until John’s jerking calmed down. Then he allowed John to grasp the back of his neck and pull him off his cock – Alexander released John’s penis with a soft _pop_ and smug grin. A dribble of ejaculate rested on his full bottom lip, pearly white against rosy red, and as Eliza watched with bated breath, John dragged a thumb through it and then stuck the thumb in Alexander’s mouth. Alexander allowed John to wipe his finger across his tongue and inner cheeks – this act could only be one of pure possession.

Aware of her heady arousal, Eliza now approached the two naked men. Alexander lay on his back with dried ejaculate still smeared on his chest and belly. John meanwhile had curled beside him, breath slowly returning to normal. Both men raised their eyebrows and moved over to accommodate Eliza as she sat on the bed. She knew that she smelled like feminine desire – her sex was still damp and she could feel curls stuck against her skin as she moved – and moreover she knew that it had been stirred by the illicit acts that had just taken place. But surely it was known that what happened between a man and his wife in the privacy of their bedroom was not for public discussion. What did it _truly_ matter (in the grand scheme of the universe, after all) if they were to bring in another…guest from time to time?

Alexander seemed to sense that she was thinking about their risky situation because he tilted his head in concern. In response, Eliza leaned in and gently kissed John. He tasted sweet and kissed her almost reverently, as if he were acknowledging his gratitude to her with this kiss. She heard Alexander softly sigh as her tongue softly grazed John’s – such an intimate act that demonstrated the new evolution of their friendship. 

Eliza pulled away from John, turning to Alexander who propped himself up with his elbows to reach her. Touching Alexander’s sweaty cheek, she pressed her lips to his bruised mouth, which he obediently opened. He tasted both familiar and oddly bitter, John’s essence still profound in his mouth. She softly kissed her husband, feeling John shift his weight over as he pressed his mouth on her bare neck.

Now Alexander was the one to pull away, giving her a lazy wink as he leaned over to John. Eliza caught her breath as the two men met each other halfway with a soft kiss. John raised his hands to delicately cup Alexander’s face. Their lips slipped together tenderly, warm and quiet, and Eliza had to fight the urge to press her lips up against theirs. 

When they finally pulled apart (Alexander pulling John back towards him for one final peck), the room fell quiet. Whatever candles had been burned had long been extinguished and now only moonlight streaming in from a large window illuminated the bedroom and figures within. Alexander had fallen back onto the pillows wearing only a large grin and the evidence of his own arousal, and John softly stroked his damp hair away from his face.

“Next time,” smiled Eliza as the two men faced her, “I should like to join.”

Twin devilish smiles were all the answers she needed.

 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, balancing Eliza and our boys was tricky. I hope you enjoy! I'm excited to continue adding more adult situations Alex and John find themselves in - if there's anything you've been dying to see, let me know!


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